Riley slid down a wall of ice that thickened the layers of the hills around her, and when she landed on the ground, she looked up to find Paris standing in front of her.
He was smiling down at her with his dark eyes, but there was something unfamiliar about him.
The wings… the wings that sprouted from his back and enclosed itself in black feathers.
He was an angel of the darkness, but an angel, nevertheless.
“Riley,” he said softly, “come on, now. Before the storm comes.”
She gazed up at him curiously. “There’s a storm?”
“A storm of fire and ice,” Paris answered. “And I must shield the fiery rain from your skin,” he held out his hand, “come on, Riley. You’re safe.”
She stared at him for a moment, and stepped to him, smiling as she took his hand.
“Paris…?” she asked him. “How can you be so dark? But also so light?”
He gazed down at her. “There’s no light without darkness, Riley, and there’s no darkness without light. There’s a combination.”
“What are you?”
“I am the darkness,” he told her. “And you are the light. Together we make perfection.”
“Did you do bad things?” she asked him. “Really bad things?”
His eyes dimmed. “Yes, yes, I have.”
“So are you a demon or an angel, Paris?”
“I’m an angel of darkness, searching for my light.”
For her? Was he searching for her?
